


Silver and Glass

by Mhalachai



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Cultural Differences, M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 11:40:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13658244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mhalachai/pseuds/Mhalachai
Summary: February 14, the Four Continents started in two days, and Yuuri was freaking out. Valentine's Day was the least of his worries... or so he thought.





	Silver and Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Some Valentine's Day fluff to brighten a Monday. Enjoy!

* * *

February 14, and Yuuri was sitting alone in a darkened Taipei hotel room, freaking out.

The Four Continents started in two days, and Yuuri didn't know if he would make it. Sure, he'd gotten silver at the Grand Prix Final and scored a personal best in the Japan Nationals, but who was to say he wouldn't fail at Four Continents and humiliate himself and Viktor?

Viktor.

Yuuri pulled off his glasses. Viktor, who had made his comeback at the European Championships only weeks before, and had set the skating world on fire again. Sure, his program had been pulled together hastily (Coach Yakov had called it a sloppy mess, and Yurio had sneered that Viktor was an old man who should move into a nursing home), but Yuuri thought it had been brilliant – a riot of colour and motion, of light and hope. And if Viktor had still fallen on one of his jumps in the back half of his program, he'd still rocketed straight to the top of the podium. Again.

Yuuri hadn't even made it to Four Continents last year, his scores at Nationals had been so deplorable. And the year before that, he'd tripped over his own feet in his free program and very nearly careened into a television camera in his short. How he'd scraped his way to a silver medal still confounded him.

But this year… this year, he was skating with Viktor as his coach, and in spite of doing everything he could to stay calm in the lead-up to the event, Yuuri was still falling apart.

The hotel room door creaked open, sending a cascade of light over the room. "Yuuri?" came Viktor's voice.

Yuuri buried his face in his hands. "I'm here," he said as the door swung shut again. The lights didn't flicker on as he expected. Had Viktor seen what a sorry mess he was, and left?

He looked up.

The dim shape of Viktor was swinging what looked like shopping bags onto the bed. "I thought you were going to try to sleep," Viktor said. He set about unbuttoning his jacket. "It's nice outside. Next time you can come with me for a walk!"

Yuuri let his head drop back into his hands. He listened as Viktor moved around the room, able to track Viktor's actions through sound alone. Taking off his shoes (two soft thumps on the carpet), removing his watch (a click and slink of the metal links being set down on the bedside table), getting out of his jacket (the soft rustle and folds of cloth being tossed on the bed). Finally, a nearby snick of a lamp turning on.

"Yuuri," Viktor said quietly. A warm weight settled at Yuuri's side, one arm going around Yuuri's shoulders. Without looking up, Yuuri turned into Viktor's embrace, curling up in the safety of Viktor's arms. "What bothers you?"

"Nothing," Yuuri lied. Viktor smelled of expensive aftershave and warm skin and _home_ , and Yuuri never wanted to move. Especially if that meant he didn't fuck up his short program.

"Okay." Viktor kissed Yuuri's forehead. "This is a fun city, Yuuri. Everyone was so nice! And so many scooters. I should get a scooter at home."

Yuuri tried to imagine Viktor on a scooter in St. Petersburg traffic, and shuddered. "You'll die," he pointed out, voice muffled against Viktor's shirt.

"Never." Viktor carded his fingers through Yuuri's hair. "After you win your gold medal, we should go out to eat the street food. I hear it is so good."

Yuuri whimpered. For some reason, hearing Viktor so confident about Yuuri winning gold made him feel worse.

"Ah." Viktor pulled Yuuri around until Yuuri was sitting in his lap, back to Viktor's chest. Viktor was a strong man, a lithe, graceful strength, and it always surprised Yuuri how Viktor could manhandle him so easily. Resignedly, Yuuri opened his eyes. "You do not think you will win gold."

"There's so many other great skaters," Yuuri whispered. "JJ broke the Canadian records at their nationals last month. Phichit is doing really good, and Otabek made all those changes to his program, and Guang Hong—"

"Yuuri," Viktor interrupted. "You are not going to be beaten by _Guang Hong_. Otabek is good, and so is Phichit, but they're not you."

Yuuri waited a beat, but when Viktor didn't say anything, he ventured, "And JJ?"

"The Canadian, yes," Viktor mused. "He shook off whatever happened to him at the Grand Prix Final. He will be competition."

Yuuri sighed, squirming a bit until he was more comfortable in Viktor's lap.

"Who else?"

"Huh?" Yuuri frowned at the wall.

Viktor's lips tickled Yuuri's ear. "Who else do you consider serious competition this year?"

Thinking was hard, with Viktor slowly licking a line down Yuuri's throat, but Yuuri did his best. "Uh, Otabek might have a break-away. He did great at last year's competition."

"Mmm-hmm." Viktor nipped at the soft spot where Yuuri's neck met his shoulder, and Yuuri shivered. "And if you skate your best, you'll leave them all behind in the dust."

A wave of apprehension swept over Yuuri. He knew Viktor was right – both on the good and on the bad. If Yuuri skated his best, he would be able to blow past Otabek and JJ easily.

If he skated his best.

_If._

"Hush," Viktor said, and Yuuri realized he'd made some sort of whimpering noise in his misery. "You can do it. You've done it before."

"Once." Yuuri closed his eyes again. "I have a much longer history of fucking up."

"Yes?" Viktor put his arm around Yuuri' side so his hand rested over Yuuri's heart. "Even when you fall out of your jumps and lopside your spins--"

Yuuri's eyes snapped open. "I don't go lopsided on my spins!" he interrupted in protest. He turned around, going up on his knees to straddle Viktor's lap. Viktor's expression was irritatingly smug. Yuuri took hold of Viktor's tie and glared down at him. "I do not," he said, tugging the tie gently for emphasis, "Have a problem with my spins."

A pink flush rose in Viktor's cheeks. "Even when you fall out of your jumps," he said again, his hands going to Yuuri's waist to hold him steady. "You put more soul and life into your programs than most other skaters could ever hope to." He pulled Yuuri closer. "You can get to the top of the podium. You just have to believe in yourself."

"I know," Yuuri whispered. He let go of Viktor's tie so he could brush the hair back off Viktor's forehead. "Just… sometimes, it's hard."

Viktor turned his head to kiss Yuuri's palm. "You've been figure skating since you were twelve years old and now you're afraid of a little hard work?" he asked with a grin.

Yuuri took Viktor's face in both hands. "I know what you're doing," he said.

"What am I doing?" Viktor asked in mock surprise, unable to stop smiling.

"You're trying to make me feel better."

Viktor's eyes shone a lovely dark blue in the dim light from the lamp. "Is it working?" he asked.

Yuuri lowered his head and kissed Viktor. Kissing Viktor in Taipei wasn't any different from kissing Viktor in St. Petersburg or Hasetsu or Barcelona; the sensation, the embrace, all wrapping Yuuri up in a wave of love and lust and _more_. He was never going to get tired of this.

Viktor's lips were soft and his hands on Yuuri's body firm as they moved together, kissing, touching, trying to get as close as they could through all those layers of clothes. Through a complicated twist, Viktor flipped them, pressing Yuuri onto his back on the ground, letting Viktor kiss him even deeper.

It was perfection.

After an eternity, Viktor slowly drew back. Yuuri lay where he was, panting and completely dishevelled. Viktor propped himself up on his elbows to smile lazily down at Yuuri. "Do you feel better now?"

It took Yuuri a minute to get his breath back. "Yes," he gasped.

"Good." Viktor sat back up, pulling Yuuri with him. "You need to think in the moment. Skating is like sex, the only place you need to be is right there when you're doing it."

Yuuri let Viktor pull him back onto his lap. "Is that your new coaching philosophy?" he asked, turning his head to arch his eyebrows at Viktor.

Viktor kissed the tip of his nose. "Yes, I have it all ready on notecards for the next press conference with the ISU." Yuuri made a face. "Now, no more skating talk for today, not until we go to practice tomorrow."

"If we're not going to talk about skating, what are we going to talk about?" Yuuri asked.

"We have many things to talk about besides skating," Viktor pointed out. "Let's see. Makkachin. Dinner. Or sightseeing?"

Yuuri was about to protest that he didn't mind talking with Viktor about skating; it was actually one of the best things about Viktor, that they could talk skating so much and it never feel tired, when Viktor fixed Yuuri with a suddenly intense gaze.

"Or we could talk about Valentine's Day!"

Yuuri's stomach dropped.

"I talked to your sister, so I know about Valentine's Day in Japan," Viktor went on, his arms around Yuuri's waist like a vise, trapping him on Viktor's lap. "It sounds so fun! In Russia, Valentine's Day only came in after the Soviets fell. It feels very commercial, at least that's what everyone tells me. They give cards and flowers. But Mari told me that men get chocolate on Valentine's Day?"

Yuuri let out a nervous giggle. "Not, um, really?" Viktor looked surprised. "Mari probably meant that girls give boys chocolate. On White Day, that's March 14, that's when boys give flowers and chocolates. I, uh, have something for you for White Day."

It wasn't exactly a _lie_. Yuuri had made plans for White Day, getting Mari to send him a huge gift package from Japan with all of Viktor's favourite Japanese candies and treats. He had also been wracking his brain for some way to show Viktor his appreciation for all that Viktor had done for him… and was still coming up blank.

Still. Yuuri had thought he'd had at least another month before that particular problem became a crisis.

But from the delight on Viktor's face, Yuuri knew he was going to end up in quite a pickle if he didn't figure something out, and soon.

"Yuuri!" Viktor exclaimed. "That is so wonderful! You and me, we will celebrate Valentine's Day _and_ White Day."

"Uh." Yuuri blanked. "Viktor, I didn't…"

"Get me anything? That is all right." Viktor kissed Yuuri's cheek. "I got myself a Valentine's Day present."

Yuuri's swirling thoughts pulled up with a screech of metaphorical brakes. "You got yourself a present?" he echoed.

"Yes!" Viktor shifted around to pull over one of the shopping bags on the bed. The bag tipped over, spilling its contents. In triumph, Viktor snatched up a small flat box, tied up with a string. "Open it!"

Yuuri blinked. "You bought yourself a Valentine's Day present and you want me to open it?"  


"Yes." Viktor pulled Yuuri against him. "This present, it is the only thing I could ever want in my life." He was practically vibrating with glee.

More than a little confused, Yuuri set about untying the knot in the string. What could it be that Viktor wanted so badly? And to fit in such a small box? It probably wasn't a ring; the rings Yuuri had bought in Barcelona were perfect, and Viktor never took his off. A watch or a bracelet? No, Viktor didn't really like anything on his wrists when he skated.

Maybe he had bought Yuuri a new tie, considering how much he loathed Yuuri's old blue one.

"Hurry up," Viktor whispered.

"Why?" Yuuri asked, finally getting the knot to loosen. "You know what's in here."

"Yuuuuri!"

With deliberate slowness, Yuuri pulled the string from around the box. He removed the lid of the box, to find, nestled in the soft cotton…

"It's a mirror," he said, puzzled, as he pulled the small glass rectangle from the box. "Why did you get a mirror?"

Viktor took hold of Yuuri's wrist and drew it out and around so they were both visible in the small mirror, Yuuri and Viktor, a study in contrasts in the dim light. Viktor's light hair to Yuuri's black; his blue eyes to Yuuri's brown; and his extreme contentment to Yuuri's confusion.

"The only thing I will ever want," Viktor breathed in Yuuri's ear, never breaking eye contact with him in the mirror.

"Oh." A beat, then, _"Oh."_

"Yes." Viktor kissed Yuuri's cheek. "My Valentine's Day present to myself is to remind me of what I have, and that is you. All of you," and Viktor kissed the corner of Yuuri's mouth. "And only you."

Yuuri watched in the mirror as Viktor pressed his cheek to Yuuri's, his eyes closing, his expression so clear and vulnerable that Yuuri's heart ached. Viktor was his, just as he was Viktor's, and nothing in the world would ever separate them.

"Only you," Viktor whispered again. Carefully, Yuuri put the mirror aside, then wrapped his arms around Viktor's shoulders.

They sat like that for a long time, cocooned in the dim light and the stillness of the hotel room. Eventually, Viktor captured Yuuri's hand to bring to his lips, kissing softly at his golden ring.

Maybe that was the answer, Yuuri thought dreamily as Viktor looked into his eyes. To stop thinking so much, and just do.

"So, my Yuuri," Viktor said, his lips moving over the back of Yuuri's hand. "What do I get for White Day?"

His voice was teasing, and in that moment, Yuuri found his answer. "Oh, I got you the same thing you got yourself."

Viktor's forehead creased into a frown. "What?"

"For White Day, I was going to give you, me." He smiled. "But we can't have two of that. I'll have to return my gift."

"Yuuri!"

"Do you know of any store that would take me in return?" Yuuri was laughing now, mostly because Viktor looked so distraught. "You probably wouldn't get too much in exchange. Maybe some used skate blades and a tracksuit."

"My Yuuri is beyond compare," Viktor protested. "There are no jewels or gold in the world that are of his value."

"Used skate blades and a tracksuit," Yuuri repeated. He kissed Viktor soundly.

When they came up for air, Viktor's expression was contemplative. "Now, it is Valentine's Day, and the Four Continents starts in two days," he said. "What do you want to do tonight?"

Yuuri sighed. "I know you said no skating talk…"

Viktor blew this aside. "That was, how do you say, bluster? If I did not have you to talk skating about, I would go mad," he said. "Tell me. What do you want? To watch tape? Stretch?"

"Do you think we could get into the practice arena to skate?" Yuuri asked. "I know you didn't put my name on the list until tomorrow, but…" His voice trailed off at the look on Viktor's face. "You put me down for today?"

"For tonight," Viktor corrected. "You, my love, I know well. You will worry about your short program and not sleep, so I tell myself, I will get him on the ice so at least he is tired enough to sleep."

Yuuri cupped Viktor's cheek, a lump in this throat at Viktor's gesture. No one else knew him so well. "Then we should go."

"Yes, up!"

Yuuri stood, reached down for Viktor, and hauled him to his feet. "Thank you," he whispered.

Viktor leaned down for another kiss. "Many people tell to me, that the best Valentine's Day present is doing what your love wants most in the world, and you, my love, I know you want to skate."

"And you," Yuuri said. "I want you."

Viktor's smile was blinding. "And you have me. Forever."

The word sank into Yuuri's heart, filling him up with joy and with light.

_Forever._

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr.](https://mhalachai.tumblr.com/)


End file.
